


A Promise Broken

by Kamikaze_Embers



Category: Food Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, Fluffy Ending, Gay, Heavy Angst, M/M, Near Death Experiences
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-29 21:28:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15737673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kamikaze_Embers/pseuds/Kamikaze_Embers
Summary: "Thank you." He whispers. B-52 smiles faintly, then frowns as he looks Brownie over."You shouldn't be here- you need to rest.""It's part of my duty to answer to the summons. I can't afford-""We can't afford to lose you, Brownie." His voice is steady, holding a tone he can't quite place."I'll be fine. Don't worry about me." He replies, loading his weapon again."I promise." He whispers, turning to resume the battle.--A fight has devastating results for all involved.Especially for a certain butler food soul...





	A Promise Broken

Being quiet and reserved individuals, neither really liked talking. Keeping to themselves, the quiet comfort they shared drew them together. Whether it was early in the morning walks or sitting outside, chatting over tea, the pair only grew closer.

And they trusted each other- B-52 allows Brownie to fix his parts, to run his fingers over the scars around the base of his wings. Brownie is always gentle, letting B-52 squeeze his hand whenever something about the maintenance hurt. 

And in turn, Brownie trusts B-52 to comfort him when storms rolled in. His cat ears are incredibly sensitive to loud noises, so B-52 simply let Brownie curl up in his lap, listening to the gentle clicking and whirring of the gears. Brownie would smile and drift asleep, often catching a glimpse of the other's rare smile before he slept.

The exploration they had just gone on had been tedious and far too long. All Brownie wanted to do was rest in the ice arena, maybe curl up with B-52. He stretches and yawns, about to head to the arena when-

"All hands on deck!"  
They were under attack.

His appearance isn't tidy. His weapons are still loaded, so that's good. He quickly runs over, preparing to attack.

His movements are clumsy, slow. The Fallen Angel shouldn't have been able to sneak up on him like that, and wouldn't have if Brownie weren't so tired. They were too close for him to really attack.

Before he can cry out, green flames surround him. Looking up, he lets a small smile cross his face. B-52 had seen him struggling and had come to his rescue.

"Thank you." He whispers. B-52 smiles faintly, then frowns as he looks Brownie over.

"You shouldn't be here- you need to rest."  
"It's part of my duty to answer to the summons. I can't afford-"  
"We can't afford to lose you, Brownie." His voice is steady, holding a tone he can't quite place.

"I'll be fine. Don't worry about me." He replies, loading his weapon again.

"I promise." He whispers, turning to resume the battle.

\--

Some promises are broken, despite one's best efforts.

"Distance calculated- launch!" B-52 soars in the air above the Fallen Angel's head. The knife they wield slices through the canvas of his wing, making him cry out. This one was particularly strong- their attacks seemed to do little damage. But, oh, their knife is sharp, easily slicing B-52's wing.

He begins to fall, unable to catch the wind and glide. Brownie watches in shock through the lense of his gun's scope, watching him tumble down. He's on the ground, reeling from a stun attack. 

Everything seems to slow down drastically.

He can only gasp as he watches B-52's wing get caught on a pine branch, ripping the wing out brutally. A sharp cry of pain, and suddenly, everything goes blurry. He's crying too much to focus, to see clearly. 

The last thing he could see clearly was that piece of an ivory wing caught in the dark brown of the broken branches of the tree. He lets out another cry.

After what feels like forever, the Fallen Angel is defeated. Someone lifts Brownie up, and he squirms. It's not B-52, he can tell that much, and that alone makes him uncomfortable.

"Do not be foolish. Master Attendant saw you take that hard fall. I have been ordered to carry you." Zongzi's voice barely registers in his head. The gun looks strange hanging off the older food soul's shoulder, but he's right. Brownie's head is pounding. He couldn't stand on his own- he'd collapse if he tries.

"What about B-52?" He asks slowly, voice wavering.

"After we're all patched up, Master Attendant promised to form a search party and find him." Brownie sighs and closes his eyes.

"Oh...B-52, please be okay..."

\--

Three days have passed and B-52 is still missing. Brownie can hardly bring himself to do his normal work, and he can't sleep. Every time he closes his eyes, he relives that moment- seeing the wing ripped from B-52, seeing him falling, the sharp contrast of beautiful ivory stuck in the dull brown of broken branches. He wakes up sobbing, fingers gripping the bed sheets.

Vodka had sent Andre to remove the torn fabric from the tree. It had been a tricky task, but the determined bird managed to bring the fabric down from it and return it to them.

Brownie had held it in his hands for a while, head bandaged and hurting from all the crying.

Just as B-52 had shown him some time ago, Brownie carefully replaces the torn wing, attaching it to the frame once more. Now it sits on B-52's desk, waiting to be reattached in its proper place.

If anyone had anything to say about the fact that Brownie was sleeping in B-52's room, they kept it to themselves. He is withering away, desperately wishing for his beloved partner to return.

Occasionally, Master Attendant would stop by to visit him. The dark circles under their eyes hint at the many sleepless nights they've had. The disappearance of B-52 was hitting them just as hard as it was hitting Brownie.

At one point, Brownie overheard Long Bao and Tiramisu discussing the best way to drug their Master Attendant so they could finally get their much-needed rest. They couldn't seem to reach a conclusion, but the conversation gave him inexplicable chills.

Napoleon Cake tried to cheer him up with sweets, but one day his patience with the dessert-loving food soul was stretched too thin and he snapped at him. Ruby eyes wide, he'd backed away, muttering a trembling apology.

No one visited Brownie for a while. They had been searching, but no one could find the mechanical food soul. The rest were still trying to find him, of course. They soon agreed to split in half- one half would look for B-52 while the rest took care of Master Attendant...and Brownie.

Brownie stares out the window. His eyes are bloodshot from many sleepless nights and tear-filled days. His head still hurts, even though the bandages had been removed yesterday. His clothes are wrinkled, his weapons resting off to the side, unused. Abandoned.

He has been a failure, and he's sure he'll be dismissed soon. He has done nothing but lay around, crying and wishing. He's hardly a food soul now- just the shell of one. He presses his forehead against the cold glass of the window. 

"B-52, please...come home."

\--

It feels like forever now, and everyone is tense. The speculations fly, ranging from B-52 getting lost to exploding to even becoming a Fallen Angel himself. Brownie can't stand hearing any of it. 

Getting fed up, he loads his weapons and heads out on his own. It's late at night. Everyone else is asleep. He should be asleep.

But he's not. He can't sleep anyways.

Trudging along, he soon finds himself where he has last seen his partner- where they had recently fought. Blood still stains the ground and he shivers faintly.

Something moves. The wind rustles the leaves, casting shadows as they block the moonlight. Brownie quietly curses the darkness, pressing forward. He doesn't speak, his heart hammering dangerously.

Nothing happens for a while.   
Then everything happens at once.

Green flames. A stern gaze. An ice blue eye against black sclera. A familiar cane. A torn wing. 

No. No way.  
It can't be.

"B-52?"

The other says nothing, stumbling towards him. 

He isn't aware he had moved, but suddenly they're both on the ground, Brownie sobbing and holding him tightly. B-52 is under him, seeming confused, but reciprocating the warm hugs. 

"I thought I had lost you! We all thought we'd never see you again!" Brownie sobs loudly. B-52 runs his fingers- still scarred and bloody- through the soft, deep brown hair.

"Oh, Brownie. I wouldn't leave you on purpose. I went out to search for the rest of the Fallen. There were more than I remembered there being. And I had come so close to losing you. I couldn't stand the thought of actually losing you. Maybe it was selfish of me to run off like that, but I truly didn't think it would take so long." He explains.

Brownie sobs, then sits up.  
"Let's go home so I can fix you up and probably scold you later."  
B-52 chuckles and sits up.  
"I suppose I deserve it, huh?"  
The sparkle in the other's sky blue eyes tells him Brownie is only kidding about that last part.

"Yes. Let's go home, Brownie.


End file.
